Definitely Not Chicken Soup
by fictionalcandie
Summary: Sirius gets fed up with being the center of WWIII and takes his brother and his best friend to visit a couple of psychotherapists, hoping to clear the air and achieve at lease a mild sense of peace and harmony in his personal life. [Oneshot. Slash.]


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; JKR does. Please don't sue me!

**Warnings:** AU, brief mild objectionable language, brief mild violence, implied slash. Potentially objectionable themes, content and situations. AU (I know I said that one already, but I kind of consider it the most important one).

**Author's Notes:** Wow, this is the first time I've posted anything here in... over five months. Shows what happens when real life takes a turn for the worse, doesn't it? Heh.

This was inspired by a conversation between myself and **duva**, to whom this is dedicated. (Hearts, m'luv, though of course you don't check The Pit so you're never going to see this but whatev.) It would not have been written without such loving, charmingly impatient pestering. (What you get for not ever reading this, dear!)

Enjoy, folks!

... don't forget to leave a review, either, if you can manage such an arduous task. Heheh.

**o-o-o**

**Definitely Not Chicken Soup**

_(Group Therapy for the Soul)_

Regulus was dragging his heels.

"Go," prodded a dark voice from behind him. It was just the _one_ word, but...

Regulus was _still_ dragging his heels, but he was doing it a bit more quickly now.

"I said _move_," the voice came again, but this time Regulus realized that it wasn't directed at _him_. He glanced over his shoulder; he almost smirked.

Regulus may have been dragging his heels, but James was refusing to move at _all_.

Which, Regulus reflected, might not be the best idea ever, given that the owner of the dark, insistent voice was standing right next to James with one large hand wrapped firmly around his upper arm.

"Damn it, James," snarled Sirius, his grasp tightening 'till his knuckles were almost white. James's face flushed a little, but he didn't move.

Regulus _did_ smirk -- until he realized that it said something about his personality that Sirius hadn't had to manhandle _him_ to get him to come here. His smirk turned into a scowl. He took a few more moody steps toward the door at the end of the corridor, then glanced again over his shoulder.

Sirius had leaned in and hissed something next to the other young man's ear, which caused James to pale dramatically, and after a moment's pause, hurry down the hall after Regulus. He looked exceedingly put out.

Regulus, dragging his heels again, wondered what his brother had said to the Gryffindor.

He was not given much time to ponder the question, however, as he soon reached the door that was their destination, and he stopped, staring dumbly at it, as if he expected it to open for him.

It did not. Which was not surprising, as this was a mostly-Muggle building.

James and Sirius came up behind him, James still looking pale and disgruntled, Sirius half-dragging him and glowering at both of them.

"Open the door," he commanded, and Regulus unthinkingly moved to obey him. It was always like that when Sirius used that tone, the one he'd got from their mother; when Mrs. Black spoke like that, the only thing that had ever kept him from doing whatever she wanted was Sirius, and when Sirius spoke like that... well, there was absolutely nothing he _could_ do but as he was told.

James, on the other hand, was independent enough that Sirius's imperious tone did nothing but annoy him. Extremely.

The door opened to reveal a reception room, with many stiff, uncomfortable looking chairs, a few blandly bucolic paintings of pastoral scenes on the walls, and a little sliding glass window set in the middle of the wall across from the door. Behind the window, a small elderly lady with wispy white hair sat at what appeared to be a desk, doing something with lots of papers. The only other occupant of the room was a waif-like creature with absurd masses of long black hair obscuring her face, who was huddled in the corner chair farthest from the door.

Regulus did not enter, and James made no move to do so either.

Sirius growled. "Regulus," he said dangerously, and Regulus did not need to turn around to see the threat in his brother's eyes. He took a single step into the room; it wasn't much, but it at least put him ahead of James, who was still loitering on the other side of the doorway. It did not appear that he would be going much further any time soon.

Until, that was, Sirius gave his arm a yank.

Grumbling something under his breath that Regulus was almost disappointed he couldn't hear, James took _three_ steps into the room, which effectively beat Regulus, who hurried to match him.

Sirius took only two of those steps with them, on the third letting go of James's arm and turning round to swing the door closed behind them. When he turned back around, his arms were crossed over his chest and he had on his bulldog face.

"Sit," he ordered, oblivious to the irony of his terse command, "I will go check us in."

Regulus and James both glanced at the unpleasant chairs nearest them, but neither sat, nor even edged closer to the seats.

Sirius's brows lowered.

"Sit!" he roared, which earned them a curious look from the waif, but by the time they'd realized _that_, their bums were already firmly planted on chairs.

"Good," grunted Sirius, shooting them both narrow looks as he passed. "Now don't get up until I say you can."

He approached the window and, sliding the glass to one side, began a low-voiced conversation with the woman behind it. After a few minutes, the conversation stopped, and Sirius leaned against a wall, smiling triumphantly. A moment or two later, the woman entered the reception room by a door neither of the other boys had noticed before. She glanced from Sirius to where Regulus and James were sitting, then back to Sirius, who nodded.

"Ah," she said, and stepped away from the doorway. Despite being rather plump, she looked a bit small, next to that door, and they were relieved to see her further away from it. Then she waved her hand at them, as if gesturing them over, and Regulus and James stopped being relieved.

They did not, however, stand up.

Sirius had told them to stay put.

They weren't _stupid_, after all.

(Well, not completely, anyway.)

Realizing what they were doing, Sirius rolled his eyes, the irritated expression returning to his face.

"Come here," he called, his voice very curt, and cold enough that they _both_ hurried over immediately.

They reached the woman, Sirius uncoiling from the wall to join them, and they realized how short the woman truly was -- all three boys were tall, but Sirius was the tallest, and the poor woman didn't seem to come up even to his ribcage. It would have been funny if they weren't so terrified of her.

"This is Ms Munchkin," Sirius declared, for the benefit of his hostages. He waited a second to enjoy the appalled expressions on their faces, as they thought that this tiny little thing was the psychotherapist he'd brought them to, and then he added, "She's the receptionist for the two women we're here to see."

"Oh," said Regulus, and then James said "Oh!"

Sirius smirked, annoyingly.

"Well, gentlemen," the woman was saying, looking down at something on a clipboard she had in her arms, "you're next, so--"

"What about the girl in the corner?" asked James, trying quite hard not to sound desperate. "She was here before us, shouldn't she go first?"

The woman gave him an odd look. "Faye?" She leaned sideways to look around them, at the girl in question, and then settled back on her heels, all the while looking unconcerned. "Oh, her appointment's not until tomorrow. You're next on the docket, all right, don't worry."

James did not look reassured.

The woman smiled at him anyway. "As I was saying, you lot are next, and Ms Duvet and Ms Appleby should be back from their lunch at any moment, so I'll just take you back, shall I?" she said, not waiting for them to respond before she turned and lead the three of them from the reception room. "This way!"

The corridor she led them down was narrow, the walls painted a rather antiseptic white and the floors covered in dull gray carpet, but the room she left them in was much more inviting, even if it _was_ decorated all in yellows and oranges.

The door closed behind the receptionist, and the three boys were alone.

Sirius immediately appropriated one of the three large couches -- the white one with the orange stripes, not the one with the yellow sunflowers or the one with the orange and yellow paisley -- and settled himself in. He'd chosen the one that made the bottom bar of the U they'd been laid out in, the one right across from the two large armchairs that they all assumed were for the psychotherapists. He looked quite unfairly comfortable, at least if you asked the opinion of either of the young men still standing stiffly by the now closed door.

Sirius, while wiggling around until he had his bony bum situated to his satisfaction, shot them a disparaging look. Their reluctance in this outing was clearly beginning to seriously annoy him.

"Oh, come sit down," he half-ordered, half-scoffed. "The furniture's not going to bite you."

"No," agreed James, after a moment, while taking a cautious step toward the sunflower sofa. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Regulus, and his expression darkened. "But," he went on, his tone acidic, "he might."

"Like I'd put my mouth anywhere near you!" Regulus shot back, storming past him to the paisley couch in a fit of temper. "I might catch something."

"Like what, good looks? They're not contagious, half-wit," retorted James rather smugly, sitting on the sunflower cushion closest to Sirius's sofa. "Which is a pity, since you could use some. Surely you don't actually call that mess on the front of your head a _face_."

Also sitting on the cushion closest to Sirius's sofa, Regulus, his hands fisted on his knees, narrowed his eyes. "I look exactly like my brother does," he announced, with cold precision, and since it was true or almost so, he was pleased to see the rush of horror in the hazel eyes across from him.

Sirius, uncharacteristically, said nothing throughout the argument.

Which might have had something to do with the fact he was too busy staring at the two young women who were standing in the doorway. They appeared rather nonplussed by the petty exchange they'd just witnessed.

"You must be the psychotherapists," Sirius said politely, looking as if he was considering rising to his feet.

The taller of the women nodded. "Yes," she acknowledged, entering the room fully and approaching Sirius. She'd managed a smile, despite the antics of James and Regulus; he was impressed. "I'm Annie Appleby, and this--" She gestured behind her, to the dark-haired woman who was closing the door. "--Is my partner, Thora Duvet. I gather that you are Sirius Black, to whom I spoke on the phone?"

From behind her faintly cat-eyed spectacles, she made a carefully blank survey of the other two boys, both sitting with their arms crossed now, and looking rather like Sirius's sullen bookends.

Sirius smiled, and stood to shake her hand. "Yes, I'm Sirius. The smug fellow on my right is Regulus, and the grumpy one on my left is James."

"Ah, I see," murmured Annie, a faint crease appearing on her forehead. She seemed to be thinking heavily.

The other woman stepped forward, her smile encompassing Sirius and both other boys. "Very nice to meet you all, I'm sure. Why don't we all sit down, and we can get started, hm?"

Annie had already sat down in the armchair on the right, a rather pleasant white thing with tiny orange sunbursts scattered around it at random, and a professional-looking notebook had appeared in her hands. Sirius lifted one brow at Thora, smiled to irritate his brother and best friend, and sat back down.

Thora looked pleased, and again her smile extended to include the still scowling young men on either side of Sirius. "Good, good," she murmured, and lowered herself into the open armchair, the one with the small yellow suns lining all the edges.

"So," began Annie, twirling a pen in her fingers and opening her notebook, "how old are you lads, then?"

"I'm nineteen," answered Sirius quickly, before either of the others had a chance to speak. "As for the babies here--"

"Hey!" protested Regulus and James in unison, both leaning forward and darting a glare at Sirius. "I'm not a baby!"

Thora looked interested in how similarly they'd responded, while Annie gleefully made a few notes.

Sirius just ignored them. "James is eighteen, and Regulus is... seventeen."

"You had to _think_ about how old I am?" exclaimed Regulus, looking offended and a bit furious.

James smirked, and said slyly, "Apparently so. I wonder if he even remembers when your birthday is?"

"Sirius always remembers _my_ birthday," Regulus snapped, though he didn't look entirely convinced of the statement himself. "Why, does he forget _yours_?"

"Never!" replied James, every inch of his posture screaming righteous indignation, as if the suggestion that Sirius might forget something so important was physically offensive.

Annie glanced between them and experimentally remarked to Sirius, in curious tones, "Judging from what we've seen so far, I would guess that this behavior is typical of the younger Blacks. Am I right that this is the way your brothers usually behave toward each other?"

Sirius blinked at her as if he could not possibly have heard her correctly.

"What? Sirius is-- He's not my _brother_!" squeaked a suddenly horrified-looking James, two bright spots of pink appearing on his pale cheeks.

"No, he's not!" agreed Regulus angrily. "He's _mine_!"

Thora thoughtfully regarded the unsurprised, frustrated expression on Sirius's face, while Annie kept an eye on the young men snarling at each other across Sirius's lap.

"He's _my_ brother and I hardly ever see him! He's always with _James_! He wasn't even in my House at school!" Regulus was accusing.

"You had him all to yourself for, what, eight years?" James snapped back. "Nine? Don't you think it's _my_ turn now?"

They continued in a like vein, ignoring the other people in the room, and Sirius steadily grew more irritated. When Thora, who was still watching him, raised her eyebrows, he burst out, "This is why I made them come here!"

"This aggressive, openly hostile behavior?" she questioned carefully, as if she wanted to be perfectly clear what he meant.

"Yes," Sirius nodded, raking a hand through his hair, an unusual gesture on his part. "They always do this! They're my-- my best friend and my little brother, the two most important people in my life, and it's like they can't stand the sight of each other! I just don't understand it."

"Do they always --" she began to say, but stopped abruptly, with an involuntary noise of shock.

Whatever Regulus and James had been saying to each other -- Thora and Sirius had not been paying attention to them, though Annie had been dutifully taking notes -- it suddenly reached a point that spurred them both, almost simultaneously, to violence. James was off his couch first, flying at Regulus with a low growl of anger, but the younger boy was only a half a second or two behind him, and they ended up on the floor in front of Sirius's couch, beating at each other and grunting indecipherably.

Annie and Thora stared at them in something that might have been, and certainly looked quite a bit like, vaguely amused surprise. Sirius, on the other hand, got to his feet and glared down at the two younger men, his face slowly flooding with angry color.

Unfortunately for them, James and Regulus failed to notice.

"Children! Enough!" Sirius thundered, in a voice like steel ringing against steel.

Both young men on the yellow and orange tie-dyed carpet froze instantly, though neither looked at Sirius. They seemed vaguely ashamed, even.

Annie and Thora were suitably impressed.

"Get up," he demanded. "Now."

They scrambled to their feet, still not looking at him.

His eyes flashed back and forth between them. "Back on the couches."

They sat.

When they had remained sitting, though they looked distinctly uncomfortable, for a full thirty seconds, Sirius gave a tiny grunt of satisfaction. "Good," he muttered, then raised his voice again to instruct, "You will _behave_ yourselves from now on, or I _will be very displeased_. Is that understood?"

Both boys were familiar enough with Sirius's personality to realize that such a threat entailed more than what the actual words would have them believe, and thus lost no time in nodding their agreement. Sirius peered intently at each of them for a moment longer, convincing himself that he believed them.

Once he was satisfied, he gave another dark grunt, and lowered himself back onto his couch. He redirected his gaze to Annie and Thora, and declared, "They don't have a good reason for that."

"Ah," murmured Annie, and Thora said, "I see."

At the same time, James's face darkened. "I do, too!" he exclaimed indignantly, finally looking at Sirius, his left hand pointing accusingly at Regulus. "He thinks he's better than me, just because your stupid bitch of a mother gave birth to--"

"I think," Annie intervened quickly, after exchanging a swift glance with Thora, "that we ought to impose a bit of... of organization now, or else we'll get nowhere with this session."

"Absolutely," Thora agreed instantly. She kept her eyes politely trained on Sirius, but it was clear that she included all of the boys when she asked, "Don't you agree?"

She was answered with two grunts and another "Absolutely" from Sirius. Regulus looked particularly unhappy.

"First, let's establish some ground rules, all right? Number one: no insults, no foul, dirty, or excessively disrespectful language, and absolutely no threats."

Thora nodded once, after they signaled they understood. "Number two: we don't want everyone speaking at once, so take turns; only one of you at a time."

"What if," asked Regulus quietly, but with suspicious distaste rampant in his voice, "_someone_ doesn't ever stop talking and won't give m-- the other person a turn?"

"Thora and I are here to monitor the conversation and act as moderators. That includes making sure time limits are obeyed," Annie explained calmly, not sounding surprised by the question. Regulus flushed. She gave him a kind look. "No-one will be allowed to completely monopolize the conversation."

After waiting for all of them to signal their agreement, Thora declared, "Number three: only the truth, boys. You don't _have_ to say _anything_ -- but what you do say had better be the truth. The _whole_ truth, hopefully." She waited another moment, apparently to emphasis the significance of this. Then she went on, "Lies will do nothing but complicate things further; the same for withheld information and intentional misdirection. The point of this session -- and any that will follow it, if you feel you should need them -- is to be honest and upfront with one another so that you can work things out between you. Otherwise there is no reason to be here."

"All right," declared Sirius, a quick imperious glance toward both the other boys informing them that they _did_ intend to comply with the rules. "Is that all?"

"Er, yes," Annie assured him. She looked a bit taken-aback. "Now we just figure out whose turn is first, and... we start talking."

"Good." Sirius settled further back into his sofa, somehow managing to lounge comfortably without looking at all relaxed. "Regulus is first."

Regulus smirked.

"What!" protested James, looking outraged, even though he wasn't happy to be present and felt no hurry to lay his soul bare to a couple of strange women he'd never met before. "Why does _he_ get to--"

Sirius raised both eyebrows. "He's youngest."

Regulus's smirk _died_.

James's jaw worked. "But--"

"And I'm going last because I'm oldest," Sirius went on, only a slight tightening of the muscles across his forehead indicating that he'd registered James's continued protest. He paused; the look on his face was dreadful. "You don't _object_, do you?"

Whether he objected the logic or not, James read the unreasonableness in Sirius's eyes, and wisely decided to pretend that he'd never said a word against anything, ever. He retreated with a quick shake of his head. Even Regulus looked a bit cowed, and all he could see of his brother's expression was the side of a face.

"Good," repeated Sirius. "Regulus is first."

Regulus swallowed uncomfortably.

Annie and Thora both smiled widely, apparently blind to any bullying that might have taken place in front of them just seconds ago. "Well?" they prompted in unison, their smiles directed at Regulus. (He only flinched a _little_ bit.)

"I'd just like to start by pointing out that I don't want to be here," declared Regulus. He sent a quick, furtive glare at his brother, then returned his attention to the females. "This... isn't my thing. I'm not... good at talking about myself."

"That's all right," Annie said soothingly, briefly looking up from the notes she'd just dived back into. "Just say anything you want to."

"Anything?" he questioned, frowning.

James looked alarmed.

"_Anything_," Thora assured him, nodding. "As long as it's the truth, and it has something to do with your relationship with either James or your brother, which is what you're here to discuss."

"But..." Regulus considered this. "I really just have to be honest? I can-- I can talk about how unfair things are, or what I'd _really_ like to do to James, or... or anything?"

Annie almost smiled. "Well, yes. Though I warn you that venting violent, twisted fantasies in front of the object of those fantasies is not necessarily productive. Usually it's best to stick to your feelings on events or the actions of other people."

"My feelings?" repeated Regulus warily.

Thora nodded, and Annie gave him an encouraging smile.

Regulus opened his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out. He looked, honestly, faintly amazed by the possibilities.

Then, he blurted, "I'm sick of being ignored!"

Thora jumped a bit, a startled flash in her eyes. "Oh, really?"

Sirius was frowning; his brother didn't notice.

"Yes!" Regulus averred, emphatic.

"Who ignores you?" asked Annie, pen poised, preparing to jot down his answer.

Regulus, by this point worked up into a mild state by his dissatisfaction with the injustice of things, abandoned caution, and announced, "Sirius does!"

"He does not!" exclaimed James angrily, half rising to his feet. Both of his fists were balled, and he looked about to dive across at the smaller boy. Sirius noticed; he sat up and leaned a little forward, ready to intercept a flying body, no matter which direction it came from.

He needn't have bothered.

"James," Annie said gently, holding up a gentle but effectively intrusive hand. "It's Regulus's time to talk right now. You have to wait your turn; you wouldn't want him interrupting _you_, would you?"

James's cheeks flamed with embarrassment, but he shook his head, and subsided into highly sullen silence, sitting down again.

Thora turned back to Regulus. "You were saying?" she prompted crisply, her voice neutral.

Regulus cleared his throat. Except a nervous glance at James, he seemed to have decided to pretend that he and the therapists were the only people in the room. "Sirius ignores me. He--"

There was a dissenting noise from the couch opposite him.

"Or, at least, it _feels_ like he ignores me," Regulus rushed to correct himself. He made a face. "He just doesn't have _time_ for me anymore. I'm his brother and I-- I never see him! He's always with _that_," he spat, gesturing slightly toward James. "It isn't _fair_."

"Why do you think it's not fair?" asked Thora blandly, as if she really had no idea why Regulus would feel that way, though _of course_ she did.

Regulus almost glared at her, before he realized it was _unfair_ of him. He settled for snapping, "Because I'm just as good as James is!"

"Mmhm," murmured Annie, more to herself than anyone else, focused on Sirius more than Regulus and frantically scribbling things in her notebook.

"I know he's clever and amusing and fun and he smells nice and he wears the same size shoes as Sirius, but he's not any _better_ than I am!" Regulus insisted, waving his arms about to illustrate his point. "I'm smart, too, and I can be funny, and before Sirius left for school we used to enjoy ourselves, but now I feel like he doesn't want to be around me anymore!"

Thora hummed softly to herself, watching Regulus thoughtfully. "Do you have anything to back that feeling up?"

Regulus looked annoyed. "He's always with James, isn't he?"

"Is he?" Annie wanted to know, glancing up curiously and meeting Regulus's reluctant eyes.

"Well no, I guess not, but... I only want to spend time with him, that's not too much to ask, is it? _I_ don't think so. I'm just as good as James, and..." he sounded almost ashamed of his bluntness, as he confessed, "I miss Sirius."

"... And is that all, dear?" asked Thora presently, her voice so kind it was nearly painful.

Regulus thought a moment. "Yes," he said finally. He bent his head and tried to bore holes in the carpet with his eyes.

"All right." Annie glanced quickly at Sirius, a flash of sympathy in her eyes that she smothered almost before he got a chance to notice it. She cleared her throat. "Regulus, thank you. James, I think it's your turn now."

Regulus jerked his head back up. He looked a little startled that neither woman was going to remark on the things he'd confessed. "You're not-- that's all you have to say? 'Thank you'?"

"Do you need us to say something?" asked Thora shrewdly, raising her eyebrows. "Was your purpose in expressing yourself as you did that _we_ should judge you? Validate your emotions? Criticize the reasons behind them?"

"Well no," Regulus admitted, flushing slightly. "Of course not. I don't need _you_ to do--" He stopped himself, with a furtive look at Sirius, turning an even darker red at what he'd been about to reveal.

Regardless, everyone else in the room seemed perfectly aware of what he'd almost said, and what it meant.

"I see," Thora murmured, looking the slightest bit professionally vindicated. Annie stifled a small smile of commiseration, focusing on the notepad in her lap.

"It's your turn, James," she repeated softly, drawing attention from Regulus's sheepish countenance.

"Finally! I..." He stopped, glanced at Regulus, then to Sirius, and glowered. "I'd just like to start by pointing out that I _wouldn't_ be here at _all_, if someone hadn't _threatened_ me."

There was a half-smile on Sirius's face that did not necessarily inspire calm in a person. "It was for your own good," he muttered, but quietly enough that Annie and Thora couldn't hear him well enough to be sure he'd actually said anything.

Regulus, who'd heard, snickered behind his hand until Sirius shot him a superior expression that shut up him, and James glared at the both of them. When Sirius caught his eye a moment later, James carefully pushed his glasses up, the tip of his middle finger on the bridge and all the others curled into a fist.

Thora cleared her throat.

"_I_ just plain do not like Regulus," James muttered sulkily, trying to pretend he hadn't heard her but crossing his arms with just as much irritation as if he had. "And that is _all_ there is to it," he added, so stubbornly and defensively that it was obviously a lie.

Thora cleared her throat again, one corner of her mouth twitching. Annie, with a much straighter face, managed to ask, "But _why_ do you dislike him?"

The look on James's face suggested he thought she was crazy for even having to ask. "Because," he answered after a bit, in a tone of disbelief, "he's Sirius's _brother_."

Sirius rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. Regulus, who _had_ been studiously and pointedly not listening, stared at James blankly with wide, baffled steel blue eyes.

"Ah, James, I seem to be having trouble understanding this, so perhaps you could explain for me -- what's wrong with his being Sirius's brother?" Thora inquired delicately, with many tactful, speaking pauses.

James gave her his look of dubious disdain again. "If he's Sirius's brother, it means that Sirius _has_ a brother."

"And do you, er, have something against brothers?" asked Annie, who looked a bit bemused. "On principle, I mean."

James blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. So Thora, though she looked just as bemused as Annie, hurried to add, "Or is it just _Sirius_ having a brother?"

"Just Sirius," James assured them, saying by his magnanimous tone that he wouldn't mind if everyone else on the planet had a brother, so long as Sirius didn't.

"And what's wrong with me having a brother, may I ask?" demanded Sirius. He was breaking the rules, but the question was one that they were all thinking, so none of them bothered to object.

"It's _bad_," said James, and nothing else.

They waited, Sirius with a rather cold expression on his face.

"... He'll always be your brother," James whispered, looking at the carpet but addressing Sirius. "I'm just your best friend -- and everyone knows that _they_ can change all the time."

He shot a look sideways, to said best friend, both dismay and anger in his eyes. "Family is forever."

"What you're telling us," Annie said slowly, "Is that you think, as a brother, Regulus takes precedence with, and is more important to Sirius?"

"No!" snapped James. A shadow crossed his face, and he muttered, "I just worry that _Sirius_ thinks that."

"Just to be clear." Annie glanced down at her notes. "You _don't_ think you're worth less than Regulus?"

"Of course I don't! Regulus is--"

But James stopped, his face twisting into a scowl.

"James?" prompted Thora curiously. "You were saying?"

James glared at her. "I can't."

"What?" Annie blinked.

"I was going to say that Regulus isn't good enough to be worth more than _anyone_, but I can't," spat James, uncrossing and then re-crossing his arms.

Annie's eyebrows rose. "Oh? Why not?"

"Because... well. Because I guess there's not really anything wrong with him except that he's... you know."

"Sirius's brother?" said Thora, more of a statement than a question, but something she waited for a reply to, nonetheless.

"Yes," James confirmed. He didn't look particularly proud of himself.

"If you don't think he's all that bad, why do you fight with him and insult him so much?"

"Because he's _Sirius's brother_, for Merlin's sake, woman!"

"James..."

"Well, I can't just be nice to the only other person Sirius actually _wants_ to spend time with, can I?" blurted James, thrusting his arms in the air in evident exasperation. "Regulus'd probably start thinking I'm some kind of pushover, and that he can monopolize Sirius whenever he wants and I won't do a thing about it!"

"I see." And the tone of Thora's voice said that she did, indeed, see. For a few heartbeats, she regarded James (who had obviously -- the militant look on his face was a big clue -- said all he meant to), and then Regulus (who did not look much friendlier than James), with a thoughtful expression. Then she leaned purposefully toward Annie, who was also looking pensive.

None of the boys said anything for several minutes, while in their armchairs Thora and Annie went over Annie's notes and whispered to each other, their voices so quiet that not even Regulus -- whose hearing was better than either of the others' -- could tell what they were saying. Then both therapists straightened in their chairs, Annie crossing her hands demurely over her notebook and smiling at them.

Thora looked thoughtful. "So," she began, "in summary, you're essentially both afraid that Sirius is going to decide that the other one of you is either more fun, more interesting, more intelligent, or more useful, and severe all ties with you completely. Your hostilities with each other are really like a defense against his leaving you... Is that it?"

Both boys reluctantly nodded, not looking at all pleased that they were suffering from such apparently similar emotional insecurities. Especially as they weren't proud of those feelings to begin with.

Thora turned a kind eye to Sirius. "And what do _you_ have to say to all of that?"

"I think they're both _stupid_, that's what I've got to say," cried Sirius, the expression on his face a disbelieving, annoyed one. It would have been easy to believe that he might be on the point of rising from his seat and smacking the other boys' heads together. Soundly.

"Sirius, please, remember to observe the rules!" cried Thora, as Annie asked, "And why do you think that, Sirius?"

"Because they're not the same person! They shouldn't be comparing themselves to each other at all! And I can't ever get sick of them or decide I don't want them in my life because they practically _are_ my life! All this shi-- this business about hating each other because they're afraid they can't make me happy, is just ridiculous!"

Sirius paused a moment to take a deep breath, then cast a killing glare at James. "Especially," he declared, in a slightly different voice, "from _him_."

"Why especially from James?" Regulus demanded, looking and sounding as if he couldn't decided to be pleased or annoyed. Annoyed seemed to be winning, if only slightly, and out of habit.

Sirius briefly transferred his glare to Regulus, but it was back on James by the time he replied, "Because I'm not about to start making love to _you_, am I? I know I may be a bit twisted, but having sex with my baby brother is _not_ on my list of things to try."

Cheeks turning crimson, James squeaked in outrage, "Sirius!"

It took a Regulus a moment to absorb what he'd just been told, and then his eyes widened and he too shrieked.

Thora gave Sirius a beady-eyed look. "You failed to mention previously that you were in a romantic relationship with James."

Before Sirius could answer, Regulus found his voice enough to cry, "You're sleeping with _him_?" in possibly the most astonished voice his brother had ever heard from him.

To the apparent but decreasing surprise of both therapists, Sirius seemed largely unaffected by this overabundance of his brother's emotion.

"Yes," Sirius replied, as calmly as if Regulus had asked him if the sky were blue today.

James's face darkened even further, and he seemed utterly incapable of speaking. Regulus took in this reaction, a tiny crease between his brows, and met James's startled eyes for a few moments. Then his forehead evened out, and he seemed to relax almost imperceptibly against the cushions of his couch.

Sirius watched him impassively.

"Well," murmured Regulus, after another minute. "Well."

"Well, what?" demanded James, in an explosive burst of hurried noise. There was a challenge in his tone, his stance, the intensity of his eyes.

Regulus was looking at Sirius.

"_Well_, at least you've got good taste," he declared while meeting his brother's gaze. His left eyebrow was arched faintly, an imitation of one of Sirius's favorite expressions.

Sirius blinked. "I-- What?"

"Good taste, Sirius." Then, with almost sheepish reluctance, "He _is_ handsome, after all."

At this, Sirius beamed, casting a proud and distinctly possessive glance at James. Then he turned back to his brother and smiled widely. "He is, isn't he?"

"Yes. In fact, if he weren't, you know, _yours_ -- and, er, if I didn't dislike him so much, of course -- I wouldn't mind being in your position."

Sirius blinked again, though he didn't seem particularly surprised by the revelation behind Regulus's implication. "It's a wonderful position to be in."

James was taking in the developing conversation with a sort of dazed disbelief. "You--" he began, his gaze fixed temporarily on Regulus. "You're--"

Regulus's eyes instantly narrowed, his body tensing, instinctively defensive. "Yes. I am."

"Of course he is," said Sirius, beginning to look faintly amused. "Aren't _you_?"

James looked mildly offended. "Of course not!"

Sirius's eyes abruptly narrowed dangerously.

"I mean," James went on, rather exasperated, "that I'm not interested in _boys_."

Sirius did not look appeased.

"Not other boys, rather. I've never been attracted to boys, besides you."

Apparently, Sirius couldn't decide whether he was pleased or not.

"In fact, I've never been attracted to _anyone_ besides you. Not girls, and _certainly_ not boys. You're special, Sirius -- and _that_ was my 'stupid' reason for fearing you'd decide you didn't need me, if your younger brother were to wind up your best friend."

Sirius still appeared dubious. "Because I'm 'special'?"

The distaste in Sirius's voice prompted Regulus to snicker, especially after the younger boy chanced a glance at James and, by the gleam in his hazel eyes, saw that though the sentiment expressed was serious, the phrasing had _intentionally_ elicited the bemused reaction from Sirius. A moment later, James broke down and snickered, as well.

For a minute, it looked as if Sirius were going to glare at them, but then, unexpectedly, he broke into an enormous grin.

"See?" he declared happily. "I knew this would work."

James and Regulus froze. They exchanged thoughtful, wary looks.

Sirius continued beaming.

"You know," murmured Annie, tentatively, and with the ghost of a smile, "Regulus, James... you've already more or less admitted that under different circumstances you'd probably like each other..."

"That doesn't mean anything!" James quickly insisted, looking a bit alarmed.

Regulus nodded several times in rapid succession. "Nothing! Right, James?"

"Absolutely nothing!" agreed James, and the, blithely ignoring that all protest at the moment put him firmly on the same side as Sirius's brother, went on to explain, "Why, I'd rather eat my own shit than be friendly with Regu--"

"That isn't anything," interrupted Regulus eagerly, leaning forward. "_I_ would rather--"

What followed was a lengthy, complicated, two-voiced dissertation on all of the many unpleasant activities, feelings and places that were preferable to an even mildly amiable relationship with each other. Perhaps the most amusing thing -- though the mention of sheep almost beat it -- was the simple and inescapable, utterly ironic fact that both speakers were in perfect agreement with each other on all points.

"You boys don't think you could ever get along, then," observed Thora irrelevantly, a laugh under the words.

"NO!" affirmed both boys, their petulant expressions warning they were about to resume discussion of who was the _most_ reluctant to embrace a cessation of open warfare.

"That's all right," said Sirius, effectively stopping further argument. The smile on his face was quite predatory.

James and Regulus looked equally flabbergasted, and cautious, as they asked, "It is?"

"... we'll just come back here every week until you decide you _can_."


End file.
